


Hostages at Midday

by ShunKickShunKers



Series: Emily Prentiss, past SHIELD Agent [2]
Category: Criminal Minds, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Bear my odd sense of humor, Blackhawk are superspies, Emily's hiding something again, Gen, Teamwork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2014-11-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 11:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/710451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShunKickShunKers/pseuds/ShunKickShunKers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Prentiss and Hill find themselves in a hostage situation, Morgan, Garcia and Phil have to work together to get them out. Sequel to When in Custody.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of

**Author's Note:**

> Well, well, so this is the sequel to When in Custody. It starts right after the last chapter, so for those who hadn't read it, the first part of the chapter might be a bit confusing sometimes. Anyway, hope you enjoy :)

**Prologue:**

The lights of the hotel room were turned off, but Prentiss didn’t need them to know someone was waiting for her.

“Took you long enough. I was starting to think you were going to stay out all night.”

Prentiss smirked and switched the light on. As she expected, Maria Hill was sitting on a chair, legs crossed and one elbow resting on the small desk.

“Blame Phil” she replied lightly. “He took forever to talk to me on the way back.”

Hill raised an interested eyebrow.

“I take it you two will stand in the same room again without glaring?”

“Shut up.” Prentiss said, but the smile didn’t leave her face. “It’s good to see you.” She stepped closer and Hill stood up to pull her into a tight hug. It _was_ good to see Maria again, the brunette thought. Nine years might have gone in a flash but it still felt like yesterday that she had seen the cadet step in SHIELD’s facilities, perfectly managing to hide her amazement. After a couple of late night shifts and rope-showing along with a few life endangering situations, both women had bounded fast.

“I found crappy whiskey in your fridge.” Hill said when she pulled back. Prentiss smirked.

“Please tell me you left some for me.”

An hour later, Hill was on the chair and Prentiss had claimed the bed. Both had been exchanged news of their lives, chatted, gossiped, and laughed hard until a neighbor knocked on the door to claim silence. They had been having a great moment and yet Prentiss knew SHIELD and knew Maria Hill. That organization and this woman never did anything without purpose behind. Phil had said she wanted to thank her and catch up, but something in the way he had said it understated there was more to it. Her friend had come to talk about something.

“All right” she suddenly said, elbows resting over her knees. “Let’s cut the chase now Mari. Why are you here?”

The woman frowned and tilted her head slightly.

“What, am I not allowed to visit an old friend? I mean, after what you did for us today…” Prentiss chuckled.

“That might have been part of your plan, but I’m not dumb, I know there’s more. C’mon Mari, I’ve worked with SHIELD too. If you keep up this act you’ll be insulting both of us.”

“That hurts you know” Hill replied, faking a disappointed pout. The FBI Agent laughed this time and set herself straight, knowing the serious stuff was coming. “Fine. I came to ask you another favor.” The brunette nodded and waited. Hill picked up a bag from under the desk and pulled out three files entitled ‘ _Report New Mexico’, ‘Report B. Banner’,_ and the last one _‘Report T. Stark’._

“What is this?” Prentiss asked slowly, taking them with precaution and eyeing it warily. She assumed “T. Stark” was Tony Stark –who hadn’t heard of him anyway with the late Iron Man fiasco?-, but Banner wasn’t a familiar name. And what the heck had happened in New Mexico lately?

“Read it through.” Hill ordered. The FBI agent didn’t move and kept a steady eye on her as she executed a quick cold reading on her.

“I have a feeling these are very confidential files, am I wrong?”

“Not above your SHIELD security clearance.” Prentiss frowned; this wasn’t in SHIELD’s usual moves. This sounded more like an under-the-cover operation.

“You are taking risks to bring _me_ of all people confidential files. Fury doesn’t know about this, does he?” Hill stared at her straight in the eye and spoke slowly:

“The world is getting stranger by the minute, Emily. SHIELD had a hard time covering some of the latest events, and the rest you will eventually hear about. But when the time comes I need to know where I can find reliable allies.” Prentiss shifted uncomfortably on the bed; she didn't like the expression on her friend's face.

“You’re starting to scare me. What’s going on Maria?”

“Read this. And when you’re done, we’re going to have a conversation about how the world is changing and how you can help us keep it safe.”

 

_Two months later, Portland_

 

“Baby girl, remind me what are we doing here?”

“Hush Derek I’m working.”

“Hacking into a restaurant’s camera system is not exactly working. What are you trying to do anyway? Why do you want to spy on Emily so badly?”

Penelope Garcia ignored him as she kept on taping on her keyboard. Two days ago, a woman named Maria Coleen had called and left a message for Prentiss. When she had relayed the information, her favorite gumdrop had had that odd look in her eyes, which had vaguely reminded her that time with a certain Doyle…and call her paranoid, but if her team was in danger again, she wanted to be informed. Hence why she ran a background check on ‘Maria Coleen’ –apparently a current CIA agent- and had hacked into Prentiss’ bank account and found out she had booked a plane to fly to Portland. She had followed her friend there –dragging Morgan along- and was now stationed at a café nearby a five-star restaurant, infiltrating the system in attempt to catch anything of Prentiss's last minute rendez-vous.

Ok, call her paranoid.

But still, after that failed attempt of relationship between Prentiss and Hotch last month –thank God it had been one amiable ending!- and Prentiss’ odd behavior lately, she had every right to worry. Her friend wasn’t going out so often anymore, was more distracted hat usual –Hotch had called her on it at least three time this past week!- and Garcia did not like it one bit. Since that case in Lodi, where Emily had encountered her former partner-boyfriend-fiancé-Carter or Couser or whatever his name was, she hadn’t been the same.

“I’ve got them!” she said, almost triumphantly. Morgan scooted his chair closer to the screen of her laptop and took a close glance: in the far end of the room, he saw Prentiss hug a brunette woman he assumed to be Maria Coleen. Both were wearing wide smiles and laughing. They sat around the table and started talking after ordering a drink.

“This is bordering on creepy Baby Girl” the man said, shaking his head. He had only followed the analyst because he knew she would have gone with or without him, and in case Prentiss busted her, make some damage control.

“Oh sue me, I’m worried.” Garcia replied. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how distant she’s been lately.” Morgan sighed and put a hand over her shoulder and squeezed.

“I did Penelope, believe me I did. But really, following her to Portland? Isn’t that a little bit extreme?”

“She told me she was going to Atlanta. Non refundable tickets. And yet she drops everything to go to Portland after that one phone call? Sorry Derek, but I’m intrigued.”

The African-American stiffened slightly; he didn’t know that part. On the screen, the two women stopped chatting and turned around, something catching their attention. On the other side of the room, the camera showed five men sitting around a round table, eating. The distance didn’t make their features recognizable, but for some reason, Coleen showed signs of discomfort. Prentiss’s next moves looked like an attempt to soothe her, but the result was neither a failure nor a success. The woman stopped fidgeting, but the line of her shoulders was particularly tensed.

And so did Prentiss’s when one of the men stood up, walked to the closest table where a couple was sharing a drink, pulled out a gun from his vest and shot the oblivious man in the back of his skull.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait…I got caught up in stuff and really distracted. Anyway here's the update. Hopefully next chapter won't take so long ^^"
> 
> Unbeta-ed work, so every mistake is mine. Oh, and since I picked up the title of this fic randomly, I randomly chose the name of the restaurant.
> 
> Read and enjoy!

 

**Hostages at Midday**

**1.**

"That is not the way I wanted to spend my weekend." Prentiss hissed.

She should have seen it coming though; her whole week had been hellish between her break-up with Hotch (they had tried for a month before realizing they were much better off as friends), Hill's last minute call barely an hour after she had booked her plane to Atlanta (not that she could blame her friend, Hill's schedule was ten times tighter than hers but damn those were nonrefundable tickets for _Atlanta_ for God's sake!), then a creepy suspect hitting on her (she had never been so happy to cuff him), the chatty taxi chauffeur who had driven her to the restaurant (he was starting to get on her nerves, who cared his daughter was studying in Greece?)…

Next to her, Hill grunted in agreement.

Everything had gone fine at first. Prentiss had stepped in the restaurant, The Midday, greeted her friend with a smile, they had ordered drinks and started chatting of inconsequential things…Of course a bad guy SHIELD had been tracking for the past two months would show up in the restaurant. Of course Hill would recognize him, get slightly unnerved because she had no way to contact SHIELD without him noticing or overhearing. And of course, the bad guy would stand up, kill someone in plain sight then take the clients hostages.

The four thuds and their boss were ordering to the customers to lie down, hands over their head. Fortunately, the space between their table and the room service door was large enough to cover their tactical retreat, but their position was very temporary. It wouldn't take long for the hostage takers to go in search of any remaining person in the restaurant.

"So, who's our guy?" Prentiss whispered. Hill frowned in discontent.

"Name is Rodrigo Tanner. Drug and arms dealer. We were going to order a hit on him this week."

"Any idea who is the guy he killed?"

"I didn't get a good look on him, but I think the woman with him is Catherina Rossi, the wife of another arms dealer Marco Rossi." She shrugged nonchalantly, but Prentiss clearly saw the tension in her shoulders. "I went undercover once, Tanner knows my face. If he sees me here, he'll have questions."

Prentiss had a good idea of what Hill was suggesting.

"So you want to lay low? We're gonna be busted if we-"

"We can sneak in some room and keep track from the outside. The restaurant has cameras. If we play it right, we can do this."

"You want to leave a bunch of hostage-"

Hill's expression cut her short.

"I don't like this, but what can you do right now? Outnumbered, unarmed, hostages…in my book it never ends well and I'd rather plan their taking down without the pressure of a gun behind my skull."

Prentiss frowned:

"You really think SHIELD can get here on such short notice?"

"I might or not have invited Phil to join us." Hill replied with a shrug. "If he kept to schedule, then he should be there soon. C'mon let's go."

The hostage takers were too busy ordering the clients around, waving their weapons and firing a few shots in warning to pay attention to them. The two women slipped through the staff's door and found themselves in the deserted kitchen. They exchanged glances. The staff must have run to the far back and through the emergency exit door. Prentiss and Hill didn't waste time and picked up a couple of knives before heading forwards. They had barely closed the other exit door that they heard voices entering the kitchen. So the hijackers were in hunt for missing people now; they needed to move fast.

"Manager's office?" Prentiss offered. Camera feeds would be more likely there. Hill nodded.

"Let's go."

 

* * *

 

The police sirens blazed in the afar. Morgan checked his watch; fifteen minutes had gone by since the gunshot and he was getting nervous. Worst, Garcia was panicking over her screens after losing sight of their colleague. Barely five minutes after the kill, Prentiss and her friend had slipped away from the screen and the only cameras were showing the restaurant and the kitchen. Morgan wanted so badly to contact Prentiss, but fearing that her ringtone might attract attention, stopped himself.

It took another couple of minutes for the cops to show up and set a security perimeter. Morgan's badge had allowed him access inside but he didn't push his luck with the officers, not yet. So he stood on the side and called the rest of his team while Garcia ran a facial recognition program on the hostage-takers. She had been running the program for five minutes before she spoke up:

"Say Derek, isn't that guy Emily's ex?"

Morgan looked up and saw what had caught the woman's attention. A newcomer was discussion with an officer quite lively. At first, he didn't recognize the man. The guy wore a plain jacket over a black suit and looked completely unassuming. It hadn't been so long since he'd seen him, but he was not expecting to see Philip Coulson here. The moment the Interpol agent spotted him though, he thanked the officer and made a bee line for them. Garcia kept an irritated frown off her face; she had heard how upset Prentiss had been after their last encounter.

"How long since the hijacking?" Was Coulson's immediate question. No small talk, straight to the point and all business tone. If Morgan hadn't been a professional profiler, he would have missed the tight lines around the man's eyes and the particular tension in his hands.

"Forty minutes."

The Interpol agent didn't look pleased. A frown creased his forehead noticeably.

"I was going to meet Prentiss and a colleague of mine there." He said, as if to justify his presence. "Since you are here, I take it they are both inside?" Morgan nodded. "Officer James over there told me you had eyes in the place."

"Prentiss and her friend fled in the back of the restaurant" Morgan answered. Since Garcia didn't like the guy –not that he felt friendly with him either –he would rather limit contacts between them. But Coulson didn't take the bullshit.

"You don't like me, I get it. But we both have a person of interest stuck in there, so I suggest you put your feelings aside and work with me instead of against me. It will be more agreeable for both of us."

Morgan was about to answer when a phone rang. The Interpol agent pulled out his from his vest and stared at the number with interest.

"Well that answers it." He muttered. "Good afternoon Emily." Morgan stared at him intensely, anticipation eating him from the inside. "Ah, that guy. Fine. Tell Maria I'm calling in Delta" he turned around and handed his cell phone to the profiler. Morgan nearly snatched it from his hand.

"Emily? It's Derek; you're all right in there?"

There was a short pause on the line and for a few seconds, the man feared she had hung up.

" _I will skip the fact you are here, possibly with Garcia, now and we'll have a talk when this is over._ " Prentiss was annoyed, but at least unharmed. If she would tell him off at the end of this, then he would live with it. He just hated thinking she was stuck in another hostage situation. _"Listen, our guy's name is Rodrigo Tanner. He's a trigger-happy kind of guy so we'll have to act from the inside."_

"What do you mean, 'we'? Can't you just wait for reinforcement?"

" _I need you to try to build a profile on Tanner and tell me how you think he will act later._ " She went on, ignoring his question. _"And find whatever you can on Marco Rossi."_

The clipped tone surprised Morgan; she sounded pissed and worried at the same time and had never spoken to him so dryly. He let it slide, figuring now wasn't the time to be offended.

"Understood. Anything else?"

" _Put Phil back on the phone."_

The man wondered when Coulson had become 'Phil' again and handed the mobile back to its owner. The agent hummed an 'okay' and hung up.

"Emily will call you for updates." Coulson said. "I need to make a few calls. Please mention to the officer you have an inside agent." And promptly walked away, already dialing a new number.

"What a jerk" Garcia muttered, glaring at his retreating back. "Ordering us around like we worked for him!"

"He didn't have to hand me Emily." Morgan pointed out absentmindedly, remembering how quickly the man had given him the phone. Was he offering an olive branch? A mean to reassure him? Did he just not want to update himself? The man snorted and turned back to his friend. "Well baby girl, in the meantime I got some work for you."

 

* * *

 

Once Phil walked far enough, he pressed the call button. Two rings later, his intended interlocutor picked up.

" _I really hope this is urgent Phil"_ Barton's passively annoyed voice answered. " _Because Tasha is wearing that awesome purple lace…"_

"Your sex life does not interest me Barton. Take Romanoff and get both your asses down in the backstreet of the restaurant The Midday. Hill and Prentiss have a situation."

" _What happened? They broke a nail?_ " the archer replied, but Coulson could hear him move through the room.

"They've been taken hostage by Tanner." A soft curse was his reply. "Oh while we're at it, don't forget the 'package'. We might need to use that thing sooner than later."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, kinda got caught up with other fics and school…next chapter will (should) be up by the end of the month ^^"
> 
> Unbeta-ed work, so all mistakes are mine. Enjoy :)

**Hostage at Midday**

**3**

The manager's office had been, surprisingly, hard to find. It was located somewhere far from the kitchen –to avoid the smell, Emily assumed, so they had to do most of the doors down the hall before stumbling into it.

"So, what now?" Emily asked, staring at the screens where all the action was reported on live. The camera feed could have been useful on the long term, but since the only indication it gave was the ongoing search of any missing customer, they couldn't stay here long. In fact, Emily thought they should even destroy the feed, in case their opponents decided to use it against them. Garcia would have a fit with no eyes in, but at least Maria and she would be safe a little longer.

"We destroy the feed" Hill said, confirming Emily's previous strategy. "And we move."

"You have an exit?" the FBI agent asked sarcastically. The manager's office didn't have a window wide enough for them to escape and with the hostage takers on their way, they had little solutions. The grin on Hill's face made her wince. She wasn't going to like the idea

"No-one thinks to look up there" she said and nodded towards a vent grill. The opening wasn't large, but large enough for them to fit. Prentiss raised an eyebrow.

"Another bad habit taken from Barton?"

"You have no idea." Maria replied before she took upon herself to unscrew the borders. "Be an angel and take care of the feeds, will you?"

**HAM**

A few minutes later, outside the restaurant, a certain hacker for the BAU was panicking.

"We lost the footage!" Garcia babbled in disbelief. Morgan strode and stopped next to her, glancing at the black screens on the tech's computer. "Emily messed up with the cameras! How are we supposed to keep an eye on them?"

"Agent Prentiss is perfectly trained for the situation" Coulson said, texting with an impatient look in his eyes. "And my agent too. A live feed on their action would probably put your mind at ease, but what if the criminals used the same against them?"

Although Morgan knew the man made sense, he still sent a glare at him.

"I don't see you acting a lot here" he snapped. Coulson hummed in disinterest, eyes glued to his cell phone. The BAU agent clenched his fists and turned to Garcia. "Tell me you've found more on that guy."

"Ah eh yes, so Rodrigo Tanner is a notorious drug dealer that has served in the army twenty years ago before going rogue. Marco Rossi worked in the same field. The FBI database says they hadn't been on speaking terms, actually fighting a lot over the market."

"So it's safe to assume Tanner went to the restaurant to deal with his direct competitor." Morgan muttered, annoyed. "He wanted to make a point by shooting him in front of a large audience."

"But why get into the trouble of staying afterward?" Garcia asked. "He could have just shot his man and leave. Why did he stay? Emily wouldn't have been caught in this mess."

"Aha!" Coulson suddenly spoke with a hint of triumph. "The BAU is now in charge of the operations."

Morgan and Garcia stared at the man agape. The agent stared back with at them impassively.

"What?"

The officer in charge had not been quite cooperative from the start. Chief Morton had been the eponym of narcissistic over the top ruler who wanted to impose his views to everyone –including the FBI who, in spite of being more experienced, knew nothing of life because they didn't live in this town now did they? And what could a team of pseudo behavior specialist bring right now?

"Why? And how?"

Coulson shrugged nonchalantly.

"The Chief claimed earlier that, in spite of having an FBI agent involved, this case didn't fall into your jurisdiction, correct? I made a call and had it arranged. Agent Morgan, you are in charge from now on."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that. I feel better with you overlooking the operations than an inexperienced officer who is eager for a promotion."

As if to confirm his words, said chief bolted from around the corner, face red and fuming.

"That was my case!" he barked angrily. "You have no right to take the jurisdiction away from me!"

Coulson smiled sweetly. Morgan wondered why he suddenly had the urge to back off. The smile was not threatening in any shape of form, but he had the impression that if meddled with, the man would show why he had become an agent. No wonder why Prentiss respected the man; as unassuming as he might be, Coulson had this strange aura, the one screaming 'don't let yourself get fooled by my appearance; you won't know when I'll bite'. Morton seemed to sense it too and calmed down right away.

"Thank you for your cooperation sir, it is most greatly appreciated." His phone rang again. He picked up, listened to what the other person had to say, and hung up. Then, he turned towards Morgan. "Please take care of this, something came up on my end."

He left without another word, leaving Morgan to handle the scene. The FBI agent didn't know whether to curse or thank the man. He felt slightly better with the situation at hand, but did he really have to leave him deal with a frustrated Morton and an ongoing operation while he dealt with other business. Didn't he care about Prentiss and his 'agent's fate?

His thoughts were interrupted by Hotch's incoming call. Morgan immediately picked up and turned back to Garcia. They had a profile to draw and a situation to close.

**HAM**

Phil headed as far as the nearest dark alley, out of sight of the scene, before turning left and walking around the restaurant. Next to a close building, a black van was pack close to the fire escape. Barton had just sent his coordinates and he wanted this operation over yesterday. The door opened at his approach and he stepped in immediately. His two favorite assassins were dressed in civies, waiting only for his instructions. Given the prints on the table, Coulson figured they already had a plan.

"What took you so long?" he asked impassively, which was as good as a glare. The delta strike team had the decency to look vaguely guilty. "You better find a better excuse than 'Natasha's purple lace'. Maria won't appreciate it."

"Then there'll be no excuse" Barton replied sarcastically. "What's going on in there?"

"Hostage situation. Hill and Prentiss are trying to come up with a plan to protect the hostages but would welcome some back up." He glanced at the maps of the building. "You know what to do?"

"Are we looking for extermination or just neutralization?"

"Protecting the civilians is the main aim. As long as a few are still alive for interrogation, we won't care about casualties on their side." He paused, then asked "Do you have the package?"Barton rolled his eyes and showed a small briefcase. "Good. Keep contact and good luck."

"That's a milk run you're sending us on" Romanoff complained but checked her Widow's bite all the same. "Your Emily better be worth it."

The handler knew better than to argue with her. He had interrupted them on a day off and right before getting some action after all.

"Hill is in there too" he reminded them. "I'll send them a message right away."

They left the SUV without any more comment and parted at the door. Romanoff and Barton headed further down while Coulson went back on his steps. A quiet gasp made him look up. A familiar blond head was peering from the corner. Penelope Garcia. Coulson groaned inwardly. He should have expected the tech to be nosy.

"You're not going to kill me, right?" she blurted uncomfortably when he approached. At least she had the good sense of remaining to speak instead of running for the hills. "Because I totally didn't see a thing. Nope, nothing. I'll keep my mouth zipped. FBI secrecy and all."

The SHIELD agent smiled indulgently, which might have made Garcia panic a little more. Rookies felt unnerved when he smiled too and he did it from time to time to freak them out. Hill called him a sadist.

"Emily wouldn't like me to harm her friends." He said gently. "But she will not weight much against a National Security matter."

"National Security, they're National…got it, I didn't see a thing" Garcia rambled. She quieted until they returned to the police perimeter where Morgan was giving out orders. With some luck, the BAU agent would be distracted by taking care of the operations and not realize right away a SHIELD team had infiltrated the building. The last thing he needed was an open interest from Emily's colleagues into her previous life. She had obviously kept that part of her carrier in the dark and he would do his best to help her keep it that way.

**HAM**

They had been hiding and discussing a plan of action for awhile when the white smoke started invading the vents. At first, it wasn't much of a bother, but when it became more dense and suffocating, they had to wonder.

"Are they trying to smoke us out?" Prentiss muttered, a little awestricken. "How did they suspect we were even up there?"

"Whether they suspect it or not, we need to get out." Hill led the way towards a ventilation exit large enough for them to go through. They ended in a small room where ingredients were stocked and piled in boxes. The door was locked from the outside with no possible opening from the inside. In short, they were trapped.

"There's no use" Maria said when they realized the only way out was the vents again. "I'll give myself up, buy some time. You better make good use of it."

Emily stared at her in disbelief.

"You think I'm letting you pull the short string?"

"It's the most logical course of action" Maria insisted. "Look, the boss will focus on me instead of searching for a second part. They know SHIELD can be sneaky and stupid when hostages are concerned. If I 'accidently' get caught, they won't think twice about it. Plus, Tanner will focus on me rather than the hostages." she paused, glanced at her cell phone. "Coulson is sending in Barton and Romanoff. It'd be great if you could clear their path on the north entrance."

"Once they're in, we'll barely have ten minutes before they realize what's going on." Prentiss pointed out. "And when they do, you'll be the target."

"Which is why I trust you to act fast. Just like old times." Hill patted her shoulder. "Don't worry, you'll do great."

"That's my line!" Emily protested, but still felt uneasiness creep inside.

They both returned to the vents and crawled back to their previous spot. Emily knew she'd have to turn on the left to reach the rendezvous point settled with the delta team.

"Be safe." She said quietly before Maria left to head where an opening would lead her to be noticed by the hostage-takers. Hill smirked and shrugged.

"I'm SHIELD, Em. Safe doesn't quite make it in the repertory."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two other last chapters are done, so I will post one per day starting today. I'm so sorry for how long it took this story to finish, but at least it's done. A third part will probably arrive at some point...Hope you'll enjoy it ^^"  
> Un betaed work, so all mistakes are mine!

**Hostage at Midday**

**4**

 

Morgan was onto them the moment Coulson and Penelope returned. He didn’t comment on the fact the two had been absent, just gave them a long stare before speaking:

“The team drew a profile, and we think we know what might happen next.” Coulson nodded, indicating his listening. “So far Tanner’s proven he’s not afraid of acting even with the police force deployed around. Given his antics, we suspect he might have an escape plan in motion, otherwise why go in and kill someone in the middle of a restaurant in broad daylight?”

“I agree,” Coulson said. “Have you considered help among the hostages? Or even in the police?”

Morgan’s expression turned grim and when he spoke next, his voice had lowered.

“At this point, anything is possible. Garcia, can you run a background check on the officers here, see if anyone sticks out?” The blonde nodded and rushed to her computer. Coulson took advantage of her absence to ask:

“You might be able to answer this. My agent in there crossed roads with him a few years ago. What might happen if he sees her?”

Morgan’s grimace didn’t announce good news.

“I guess it depends on how much he hates your agent, whether he will be merciful or not.”

“Merciful such as?” A hint of worry appeared in Coulson’s voice.

“If he really wants to see her dead, he’ll kill her but after torture. If he doesn’t much care, she’ll be executed right away.” Morgan didn’t ask, but the question was in his eyes. The SHIELD agent shook his head sadly.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing he hates her badly.”

 

HAM

 

Prentiss had been waiting for three minutes when she finally saw the reinforcements arrive through a ventilation opening. The meeting point was an old furniture room which offered a good deal of privacy. No lock on the inside or the outside, which might have been a problem, but so far they had been lucky.

“I never thought I’d say this, but glad to see you Barton.” She said as they dropped down in the room. “Agent Romanoff,” she then greeted towards the redhead. Natasha nodded in return. And Barton opened his mouth:

“You’ve gone so rusty that you can’t handle this alone?”

“Last time I tried to handle something solo -a 20 something Irish gang- I ended up stabbed by a spike in the stomach and bleeding out on the ground of a warehouse. I’d rather have backup this time.” Barton grinned, and Emily rolled her eyes. “Fine, _maybe_ I’ve gone a bit rusty.”

“FBI agents are so out of shape,” the archer declared in a sing-song kind of tune. His partner rolled her eyes in exasperation and dropped the long-shaped briefcase in front of Prentiss.

“From Coulson,” the former Russian said. “A gift.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief. She opened it right away and inhaled sharply in shock.

“Oh my God…” she whispered in awe. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Depends.” Clint replied with a smirk. “What do you think it is?”

Emily carefully retrieved the folded and unusually thin gun with reverence. Natasha looked a little curious.

“You brought back my baby to me?” she pushed a slide on the side and the barrel unfolded into a short, thin rifle about the length of her arm. Her eyes sparkled. “Barton, I could kiss you right now.”

The archer grimaced and Natasha frowned but both were ignored as Prentiss kept cooing over the weapon. It had been a new SHIELD-issued innovation at the time, and one of her favorites. It was unusually light and awfully dangerous to manipulate because of said lightness –a bad move and the trigger might have backfired on her –but she outscored everyone with the damn thing (except for Barton, but he was an ass with an unnatural eyesight and gift for aiming, so he didn’t count) so no-one complained. She couldn’t quite make one kilometer without the sights and magnifying glasses but she definitely hit any target on spot under that distance. And with an additional magnifying glass…Unfortunately, when she had left SHIELD slamming the door, she had to leave it behind. The unusual tech was not to leave the organization and she had really missed it overtime.

“R&D upgraded it a little.” Clint added. “Last time you said the handle tremble more than a classical rifle and the barrel tended to shake because of it. Also they added a silencer within the barrel.”

Emily checked the weapon over. At first glance it looked exactly like the old model she had but after a closer inspection she spotted the one or two things that might have changed. Nothing she couldn’t deal with at the present time. At worst, she’d have to shoot her adversaries in the chest for the first tests.

“Did SHIELD made more of those?”

“You were the only one capable of using that shit properly,” Clint replied with a shrug. “Coulson insisted on keeping your prototype just in case.” Pause. “You’re gonna kiss him too?”

“Am I even allowed to keep it?” she asked longingly, ignoring his sarcasm.

“Maybe if you’re a good girl.”

“We’re wasting time.” Natasha cut abruptly. Emily snapped out of her daze with a guilty face. Barton snorted.

“Don’t worry Nat, Miss B.O.S is in love with that thing, she’s just upset she’ll have to wait before canoodl-” his words were interrupted by a dry slap at the back of the head by said agent. Natasha ignored him and went on:

“You and Prentiss go to the rescue and incapacitate the leader and his goons. I take down the ones still walking around.”

“You think we should separate?” Barton asked with a surprised eyebrow.

“I don’t want Coulson’s buddy harmed,” the redhead retorted with a sort of snort. “I go on my own, you cover each other’s back.”

The archer raised his hands in defense.

“Do it your way, and see you in five.”

The redhead nodded and turned her back to walk her way. Prentiss and Barton stood behind. The BAU agent glanced at her former partner and smirked.

“What?” Barton asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You are so whipped, peacock.”

“It was only once, but she sure knows how to handle it.” He said with a smirk. Prentiss rolled her eyes; of course he’d play along.

“I don’t want to know.”

“You asked.”

“Seven minutes and counting.”

“On it.”

 

**HAM**

 

“Okay, I have a problem.” Garcia babbled, catching Morgan and Coulson’s attention. “I managed to gather as much information as I could on the police and officers of town but some come from very specific background and have a higher clearance level that I can’t access.”

“If Tanner has help from the outside, it must be from a higher rank.” Morgan pointed out, frustration dropping from clenched teeth.

Coulson leaned over her shoulder, which made Garcia tense a bit.

“I’d rather try an officer who spent some time in Argentina or Brazil. Tanner stayed a fair couple of years there.”

“With all due respect, if I have to analyze each and every one of them it will take a whole lot more than five minutes.”

Coulson raised his eyebrows.

“Even with just the officers in the sector?”

“Sir, some backgrounds are _sealed_!”

The man sighed heavily and plunged into his inside vest. He pulled out a USB device and handed it to her.

“Password is ‘L.O.L.A’. You will only have access four minutes from the moment you plug it in, but you will have access to a very large range of data.” At their dubious stare, he shrugged. “I have a high-level clearance. Everything will be strictly need-to-know obviously.” He added, and she nodded. “Four minutes, Miss Garcia. Use it well.”

He turned around and pulled his phone again to read a text. Penelope plugged the device reluctantly and waited until the program uploaded. A black and grey background with the logo of an eagle on the upper side of the window popped open. The search tool bar was rather narrow, but as she started exploring, her jaw fell wide open. As results came in, key words or themes appeared to narrow them and in seconds she found what she was looking for. Whatever the man ‘clearance level’ was, it was pretty damn high, because she had access to _everything_. Her fingers worked on automation, remembering she only had now three minutes and forty seconds. It took her a full minute to scam over information that had been previously denied to her and thirty seconds more to dig a little deeper. Three officers, two of them recently recruited and another one with a long-time service in the city, had spent extended time in a foreign country including Argentina.

“You found something baby girl?” Morgan asked, glancing from over her shoulder, and whistled at the information spread on the screen. “They even have their weight from the past three medicals?”

“You think I can ask for a transfer to CIA?” she asked jokingly, already green with envy at the ease with which she had reached what she wanted. That was when the screen turned black and the window closed. The USB device stopped blinking as it disconnected and Garcia gasped in shock. Her four minutes delay couldn’t have been already over, could they? And she didn’t even had the specifics-

“Good job, Miss Garcia.” Coulson suddenly spoke up from behind, which made them both jump. He pulled the plug back from the computer without asking Penelope, which deleted any bonus points he could have gained. “Please transmit the names to your chief, I need to return to base. A new case, you see.”

“You aren’t staying to wait after your agent?” Morgan asked, scandalized. Coulson gave him a neutral smile and shook his cellphone.

“You are obviously handling yourself well. My presence is no longer needed.” He glanced one last time at Garcia and raised an eyebrow in warning. “Good day.” He concluded and left the premises without another word. Morgan narrowed his eyes at his departing figure and shook his head in disgust.

“The nerve of that man. Seriously, I pity the guys working with him. So Garcia, who were the suspects?”

The words barely left his mouth that a bunch of people ran out of the restaurant.

 

**HAM**

 

“Clear,” Prentiss whispered as she crouched into position and held her weapon towards Tanner. The angle was perfect, free of hostages and thugs. Barton hummed and nodded. She took the shot, her favorite weapon barely making a noise as the trigger expulsed the bullet into Tanner’s left lung.

And people screamed as the big boss crumbled down with a nice red flower blooming over his chest. Barton and her shot down the remaining thugs, leaving a couple alive but injured. Once no-one on the bad guys side was left standing, Prentiss ordered sharply:

“Everyone, out, now!”

The hostages ran towards the front door without wasting a second. Prentiss directed her attention on Barton, who was helping a limping Maria to stand on her feet. As they had more or less predicted, Tanner had decided to ‘have some fun’ beating up a former enemy before thinking of killing her right away. A small dripping trail of blood was slipping o

“How long before full recovery?” Prentiss asked, eyeing her friend from top to bottom. Maria shrugged.

“Give it two weeks.” She replied and narrowed her eyes in pain, a hand reaching for her chest. “Maybe three.”

“I took three down.” Natasha interrupted them, making them all jump –Prentiss had forgotten about her. “The FBI is planning an entry.”

“Go before they come.” Prentiss blurted, shooing them away. “I’ll take the credit.”

“They’ll want to see Maria.” Barton pointed out while Natasha was staring at her with an odd glint of interest. Prentiss reluctantly threw her SHIELD weapon to the redhead and added:

“I’ll make up something. Now go.” She could already hear the local police shouting and coming closer. She glanced over her shoulder to evaluate their approach and when she turned back, they were already gone. A small relieved sigh escaped her mouth before she proceeded to unarm the injured goons as the troops approached.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter / Epilogue will be posted tomorrow :)

**Hostages at Midday**

**5**

 

The hostages were running out, wailing and frightened. A part of the local police tried to keep them calm while Morgan ordered an assault team to follow him. He led them to the front door, waited, and plunged in. Much to his surprise, Emily was checking an injured man among the five others scattered around. When she saw them, she raised her arms in defense.

“They’re all out. Most are dead though.” She shouted, keeping her hands in sight. Morgan, halfway trusting her words, lowered his weapon. The police officers around started rushing to investigate the building.

“Are you certain?” he asked, eye darting from body to body.

“We did the tour before attacking the main room,” Emily explained with a shrug, lowering her arms. “It was a shoot or die situation, Derek. It’s not like we had a choice.”

“We?” Morgan noted and looked around, expecting to see an injured woman in the lot of people lying on the floor. According to Coulson’s face, his agent must have been nicely arranged.

“Working undercover, so she had to slip out with the hostages.” She replied easily and her gaze stopped on Tanner’s corpse. “Leader’s there, all yours. I assume Phil already left?”

“He did.” Morgan confirmed, and wondered once again what kind of relationship she had with her ex-boyfriend.

Seeing her alert and fine made him better, and the anxiety that had been feeding his adrenaline was slowly fading out of his system. And he would forever blame that sudden wave of tiredness when he missed one of the officers pulling his weapon and aiming at Prentiss.

He didn’t have the time to react as the man pulled the trigger and the bullet fled towards his partner. But with a speed he had never suspected her to have, she ducked, took her own gun and fired without blinking twice. The policeman crumbled down with a hole in his forehead. Suddenly all weapons were drawn on her. This time, Prentiss dropped the gun and put her hands on the back of her head, slowly kneeling on the ground. Three cops headed forwards cautiously to handcuff her.

Morgan watched them do in shock and it wasn’t until she walked by him that he spitted:

“You better have some explaining to do,” Morgan snapped as he put his gun back in its holster. His heartbeat was accelerating, and he cursed the momentary inattention. Not that he could have changed much things, he thought grimly. But he followed Prentiss’ cortege outside.

“Tanner couldn’t have gotten out without help from the inside.” She replied dryly, ignoring with perfect calm the glares and fingers twisting aimed at her. If was like she was detached from everything, above the events occurring right here. “I’d bet this guy was working for him.”

The words were left behind as she was dragged outside and another officer prevented Morgan from following with a scowl. It took all the man’s self-control to hold back from snapping at him, but one last glance from Prentiss, that ‘let it be’ glance, convinced him he shouldn’t push the matter. Once Hotch and the others arrived, they could sort this out.

So he just stood there and watched as his partner was hauled into a black van, and disappeared in the middle afternoon circulation.

 

**HAM**

 

“How you managed to slip on a uniform and melt in the crowd of small-town officers will always baffle me.” Prentiss said once the vehicle started moving. The ‘officer’ across her lifted his cap and Barton grinned as he laid it on his knee.

“Maria and Phil had their chance to chat with you; now it’s my turn.” He fingered his collar, probably too tight for him. “Although I kinda hate these. And really, did you need to shoot that dirty cop to death? An injury wasn’t enough?”

“He pulled his gun on me.” Emily protested, frowning. A beat later, she admitted. “I forgot I wasn’t using my baby. I was aiming at his shoulder. And he might have known about SHIELD, so really, it's just one bad guy less.”

Barton tss-ed and crossed his arms.

“You are getting rusted, B.O.S. I’m not sure you deserve your rifle back. But knowing Coulson, he’ll drop it at your apartment later today.”

Prentiss chuckled.

“So you are the ‘bad cop’ in the routine this time?”

“Natasha is the sadistic one, I’m a pure angel.”

“Very cute.” She replied deadpan. “By the way, please do tell your partner you’re all hers. I don’t want to find my cat dead on the doorstep sometime.”

“Aww why? Don’t you think I’m handsome enough?” he cooed, and didn’t reassure her on the potential state of her cat.

“You may be cute but you ruin the image the moment you open your mouth. And I doubt the Black Widow wants to share her preys.” She snorted, and the archer returned her smirk in approval. “Good job Barton.”

“Nice working with you too, Prentiss.” He replied earnestly, much to her surprise. The van was slowing down, so Barton put his cap back on the top of his head. He hesitated a moment, then added: “Are you free next weekend?”

“Why Barton, are you asking me out?” she replied with a light, amused smirk.

“And risk you cat’s life?” Prentiss glared at him. “Nah, I’m not that cruel. Tasha, Phil, Maria and I are going to a laser game in Chicago. Since Maria is off-service, care to join?”

The door opened and another officer let her out before she could give her answer. But Barton figured the sudden sparkle in her eyes was definitively a ‘yes’.

 

**HAM**

 

When he arrived on site, Hotch arrived expecting to face angry officers. Emily had shoot a cop from their own department. And it didn’t matter if he had pulled the gun on her first, because losing a colleague, no matter if he was dirty or clean, put people on edge. He entered the police station welcomed by wary glances and side glares. Jayjay and Rossi standing firmly by his side, he had gone down the hallway, straight to the officer in charge, ready for battle and mobile phone in hand, ready to call reinforcements. Strauss hadn’t been notified of the situation yet, although it was a matter of time, but he would have liked to make this as easy and smooth for everyone involved.

But much to their surprise, they saw Prentiss sitting in a chair in the hallway, staring at her cellphone like she always did when she was bored. No officers stood within a meter from her and were pretty much glaring and hissing snide remarks, but she acted far from being nervous and ignored them all.

They had barely entered her sight that she stood up and smiled tightly at them. Hotch was the first on her.

“Who do I need to speak to?” he asked straight ahead, his tone way too low and honestly, now that he’d seen her unscratched, a little bit angry. The Prentiss he knew would have bitten her lower lip in apology and sighed heavily. But this time, she lowered her eyes and glanced at her shoes like a little girl for two seconds before gathering the inspiration she needed to face him.

“It’s been taken care of. Coulson stopped by earlier; the guy I…” her voice trailed off, she glanced around before continuing: “ _That_ guy was the one Garcia found during her search for a potential outside help. I’m free to go.”

Earlier would have meant a good twenty minutes ago. Morgan and Garcia had come to pick them up at the airport, and had told him the CIA agent had left a little before the hostages ran free. Had Coulson made a detour to come and check on Emily? How did he even know where to find her?

A police officer –the captain in charge –stuck his head out of his office and glared at them.

“Your friends are here,” he growled, eyes narrowed at her. “Feel free to show yourself out.”

Prentiss’s face remained blank and unresponsive as she picked up her handbag and shouldered it. She glanced at her colleagues, carefully avoiding Hotch’s eyes. And that very subtle move told Hotch she was hiding something. No matter how good of a profiler she was, no matter how skillful she was with lies, she seemed to know he caught most of her tells. Perhaps because they had been close for a while.

“It’s probably best if I return on my own.” She started. “I’m not sure you want to be around me right now.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow. It was faint, all too faint, but he didn’t quite miss it. That flicker of uncertainty had returned, the one he had only seen once in her eyes, after Doyle had resurfaced and she stood in the threshold, watching the realization dawn upon her team that she wasn’t quite dead. The glint vanished and for a brief moment, he thought he had dreamt it. But Emily avoided his eyes again and he thought he was holding onto something.

“Em…” Jayjay started, but Prentiss shook her head.

“You don’t want to share a enclose space with me anymore than I do.” She went on dryly, catching everyone a bit off-guard. “And I am suspended from duty for two weeks. The paperwork is filled, you can just…go home,” she concluded on a resigned tone. “Thank you for coming.”

And she darted past them without giving them a second glance.

“She’s upset,” Rossi said, pointing out the obvious. “Perhaps we should give her some space.”

Garcia looked worried and Morgan pissed, Jayjay at loss and Hotch…Hotch had the urge to run after her and give her a private word himself.

“Go to the car,” he ordered the team. “I’ll join you shortly.”

He hurried outside and checked his surrounding, only to realize Prentiss was standing next to the door, arms crossed, as if expecting him.

“You were waiting for me?” he asked cautiously.

“I figured you’d want some explanations. Here might be better than anywhere else.” She said with a shrug. Hotch blinked in surprise, and she added softly: “Let’s walk.”

She turned around and started strolling on the sidewalk. After a split second hesitation, he followed her, figuring she didn’t want to be overheard. They followed the road in a tense silence, as he tried to come up with something to say. He had many questions, starting from how she had gone out so quickly to what was going through her mind. She had just killed another human being; and she wanted to isolate herself from the others, from her _family_. He had a feeling she had allowed him to come only because he wouldn’t let go without answers.

Eventually, he took a deep breath and asked:

“Emily, what are you hiding again?”

The dark-haired woman sighed heavily and stared at her feet again. They walked another few ten meters or so before she seemed to make a decision.

“I guess I owe you this…” she started and went on softly: “I have secrets, Aaron.” Hotch felt unnerved; she never called him ‘Aaron’ unless something serious was at stake. “Some stuff I can’t talk about, even with you.”

Hotch felt concerned and a little hurt. He thought they were past that, after all they’ve been through together.

“Emily, you know you can tell me everything.”

And he hated her for not knowing whether the regret in her eyes was genuine or faked. He was a goddamn profiler, he had worked with her, he _knew_ her _tells._ Or so he thought. Because right now, she was giving up nothing and he could not read her.

“I was in the CIA for barely five months before I integrated JT12,” she continued, and it dawn upon Hotch what she wasn’t saying. She hadn’t been working for the CIA as long as he thought. She was elsewhere before…for years. His lips thinned into a line as he realized Rossi and his supposition on her lying to protect them wasn’t as far fetched as they thought. “I made a deal with my former boss. The deal was, helping former colleagues if they ever were in trouble.” Hotch nearly asked if that couple she believe innocent were those former colleagues. “And deny _their_ existence. I can’t talk about it Hotch, and even if I could, I wouldn’t because what I use to do?” she shook her head. “This is way out of your field.”

They kept walking in silence, Hotch feeling the weight of her words more with each step.

“How is this related to the case?” he asked tersely. She shrugged.

“ _They_ got involved, so I did what I had to do.”

Hotch’s eyes flared.

“Did you _intentionally_ kill that man?”

Prentiss’s eyes hardened and for a moment, Hotch didn’t recognize her at all. Where was the college attendee he had met during his time at the Prentiss’ protection detail? Where was the agent he thought he knew better than anyone? He used to love her lively eyes, her cheerfulness, sarcasm, hurt, anger and every emotion he could read in them. But now, there was something dark he had never seen before, a glint he had only seen in one kind of people. The kind of people he analyzed for a living.

“That’s exactly what I am talking about.” She hissed, and he was somehow relieved to hear the regret in her tone. “Covering all ends, regardless of the troubles I could get into afterwards. I don’t give a sh*t about bad guys, but I’m not a damn Cleaner.” She inhaled sharply and went on: “I need you to forget about this, or rather not ask further questions.”

“I don’t know if I can do that,” he replied honestly. She glanced up at him, her expression determined now.

“I know you and Rossi have suspicions. I’m pretty sure Garcia will have some shortly and will share them to Morgan. But I need _you_ of all people to trust me on this. You guys are my family, and I will do anything to protect you all.”

Hotch stopped walking, and so did she. For a brief moment he thought he recognized the Emily he knew, but he didn’t quite trust his instincts with her anymore.

“What will happen, if I try to find out?” he asked nonetheless. Both knew when he wanted answers, he would do what he needed to.

She gave him a sad smile.

“Then I will have to leave the BAU, and the team will be dismantled for security reasons. And you and I know this is the last thing you want.”

“The people you use to work for must be quite powerful then,” Hotch pointed out bitterly. And Emily laughed softly.

“You have no idea, Hotch. No idea.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the reviews and following so far! I hope you enjoyed this little story :)  
> Ps: Part 3 will begin whenever I'm done with at least two of my other stories...sorry for the wait ^^"  
> Unbeta-ed work, so all mistakes are mine. Enjoy!

**Hostage at Midday**

**Epilogue**

 

Morgan raised his eyes from his desk and stared as Garcia entered his office, eyeing cautiously her surroundings.

“Are you alright?” he asked worriedly when she locked his door and hurried to sit in front of his desk.

She looked afraid and wary, he realized and kept his feelings in check. His friend was upset about something and, as Prentiss had so nicely mentioned early in their partnership, probably needed him to shut up and listen. Thinking of Emily made him want to grimace. He couldn’t recognize his partner lately. Ever since she returned from the dead, her whole behavior had been off. And the impromptu return of her former partner/boyfriend hadn’t arranged matters. If anything, he’d even say she had been distancing herself from them.

Not to mention the recent hitch with the hostage situation. Hotch had brushed everyone’s concerns that Prentiss wasn’t in deep trouble in spite of the two weeks on probation. Still, it made Morgan uneasy about how easy she was left off the grid.

“I’m not supposed to say this, and I’m most surly in big trouble if anyone hears this but I needed to get it out.” She blurted, hands fidgeting with the file she was holding.

“You know you can tell me anything.” He attempted to reassure her, but she only bit her lower lip nervously.

“Then I need you to swear you won’t tell anyone, especially Emily.” Morgan’s focus was all hers and he promised. Penelope breathed in sharply and blurted: “Emily’s been hiding something and I know what it is. Or rather, I think I know and I definitively am onto something but I can’t research further it or they’ll find me and not only I but all of you will be dragged into this and-”

“Baby girl, just breathe.” She obeyed. “There. Tell me.”

“Coulson.” Morgan held back a frown; that name was not being associated with good things in his mind. “He isn’t from the CIA. I mean, he’s got the background and the ID set, but that’s just a cover. He’s part of something else, something bigger; like a huge underground organization.”

Morgan blinked.

“Okay, now I’ve never pegged you for the conspiracy kind, but this isn’t this a little bit overthinking?”

Garcia turned on her tablet and nearly shoved it into his hands. The picture of an eagle in the shape of a logo appeared on the screen. But more interestingly he recognized the pictures of the couple that had been taken into custody for a series of murders not so long ago.

“This was the logo on Coulson’s USB device. I thought it was familiar and that I’ve seen it before, but it didn’t came to me until yesterday. This a secret organization, _SHIELD’s_ logo.” She said. “There were rumors about them, nothing more, nothing that I thought worth paying attention to but before the FBI caught me, a friend of mine –well, you’d call him more of a _colleague_ than a friend –mentioned he had found a lead on them. And three days later, pouf, he disappeared, vanished. When the FBI came for me, I was digging onto them and I thought _they_ had found me. And even if I couldn’t find anything through the FBI channel, I’m sure they exist. I would bet my best computer Coulson is part of it, and so are those two.”

“Pen-“

“Listen,” she interrupted abruptly. “I tried to find the footage of their interrogation and I came up with nothing. They were destroyed before a transcription could be made. And those two…I saw them with Coulson, during the hostage situation. They were leaving a van with _that_ kind of luggage, if you see what I mean.”

“Garcia-“

“Coulson saw me and said it was a matter of National Security, and that I shouldn’t dig deeper but I hate not knowing. And then I thought it was odd Emily dismissed them as suspects, maybe because she knew who they were and they had nothing to do with the case, but if they are SHIELD, that means Emily was part of SHIELD and she’s been lying to us again and that, I can’t…it’s just too many lies and I don’t _want_ her past to be another lie.”

Morgan shut his eyes and was brought a couple months back, in the police station, when he was announcing the identity of the two first suspects they had in custody. He remembered Emily snorting in her mug, and although it was nothing, her words had struck like odd, but he hadn’t understood why.

_‘It’s been a while since I’ve heard that one’._

Maybe she did know they weren’t an heiress and a bodyguard. Maybe she actually knew them and –he felt a pang of anger at the thought –she had decided to cover her former partners. Had they come to rescue her, at the hostage situation? He found it odd again, that Emily had managed to take down the entire squad with just a partner. Her friend from the CIA had slipped out when the hostages escaped, so her story of them both taking down those people one-on-one was based on her words alone. But no security cameras had recorded anyone entering the building, and Emily’s statement at the police station hadn’t lasted over two hours. An in and out, even though she had just shot a cop. A dirty cop, yes, but a cop nonetheless.

Morgan groaned inwardly and rubbed his hand over his face. At the time, he had been glad for the chief’s cooperation and the story to be over with, but if Penelope’s theories were true…Then who knew how much information had been filtered and deleted by the hands of Emily Prentiss? How long had she gotten back in contact with her former colleagues? Had she been a mole the whole time of her stay to the BAU?

_“I called her my friend.” He told Rossi, back at the apartment when they were still looking for an escapee Prentiss. “Now I can’t even say I ever really knew her.”_

“Okay Penelope.” He muttered, reaching a conclusion. “There isn’t much that we can do for now, so is what we’re going to do. Nothing. We keep an eye out on Emily, see if her behavior changes. If you notice anything amiss, you tell me and we tell Hotch.”

Garcia’s expression reminded him of a kicked puppy.

“I’m not a spy Derek. I don’t want to spy on one of my friends.”

“I know,” he replied softly. “I don’t like it either.”

And those words followed him through the week, up to the time he left for Chicago to meet with his family for the weekend. He had thought returning to them would help him get over this uneasy feeling. But as a matter of circumstances, his sisters were out for a shopping spree and his mom down with a cold. He offered to do the grocery shopping and went out, cursing his lack of good timing.

“Fuck you peacock!” a familiar voice exclaimed. “I totally outscored you!”

Morgan froze and turned around the corner. A group of four people were heading towards a car, and he recognized all of them. Coulson, for starters, Emily and –he felt a pang in his chest –the two suspects that Garcia claimed to belong to an underground organization. His partner was scowling at the man as he glared petulantly back. The profiler noted that they were all dressed casually, as if they had been going out as friends.

“For one, you didn’t outscore me, you just happened to spot that one guy standing in your sight and out of mine. For two, I was stuck under a building which is why I didn’t spot the guy. For three, I’m not at my best with a gun, even less a laser gun, and it wasn’t functioning properly.”

“Excuses, excuses,” Emily replied, waving her hand in thin air. “You’re just saying that because you don’t want to look bad in front of your girlfriend.”

“Children, behave,” Coulson intervened while the redhead looked amused. “Or I’ll ground you.”

“She’s started it!” the blonde protested. Emily glared at him.

“I didn’t start anything. You’re just pissed I beat you by ten points! And even Natasha beat us both and you’re not making a big deal out of it.”

“Tasha’s the best, so she got an excuse. You’re supposed to be rusty!”

This time, she whacked his shoulder and he pretended to retaliate.

“That’s it, you are sharing the note at the restaurant.” Coulson intervened before it could degenerate further. Prentiss frowned.

“I thought we were going at Maria’s?” she asked hesitantly.

“She’s back on the heli again; last-minute call in.”

Prentiss rolled her eyes.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” she snorted and slid in the backseat with the three others. The car took off and Morgan turned around and pretended to read a text not to draw attention. He decided to write to Hotch about Emily’s suspect behavior, and much to his surprise, the answer came within two minutes.

_Let it go. For now._

Five words. Five words than convinced him Emily was actually deep into something, that their team leader knew about it and was waiting for the right moment to dig in. Morgan frowned and put his phone back in his pocket.

He’d keep an eye open, he promised himself, and find out what was going on.


End file.
